


Epidemic

by sherlyholmo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 1980s, Angst, Character Death, Fluff, HIV/AIDS, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, STDs, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Smut, The Normal Heart, gay community
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlyholmo/pseuds/sherlyholmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of HBO's new movie "The Normal Heart"</p><p>John is just a normal gay male in London, then he meets Sherlock Holmes, a beautiful younger man. In the 1980s, HIV/AIDS are spreading faster and faster in the gay community. John, Sherlock and a few other friends fight to raise money for a cause to fight this epidemic, infecting a few of their close friends and lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> John Watson: Ned  
> Sherlock Holmes: Felix  
> Greg Lestrade: Bruce  
> Anderson: Albert  
> Irene Adler: Woman Advocate (part of the lesbian community)  
> Jim Moriarty: Tommy  
> Mycroft Holmes: Ben  
> Molly Hooper: Emma

**1981**

 

John rubbed his eyes, lifting himself off the bed. Luckily it was a Saturday, that means no work and no stress. He struggled his way to the kitchen, filled the kettle with water up to the line and boiled the water until it was scolding hot letting the kettle scream for mercy. He plopped a bag of tea into a pearl white mug and gently poured in the steaming water, followed by a lump of milk and a pinch of sugar. This was his daily routine in the mornings; get out of bed, make tea, sit and sip. Occasionally he would watch the telly but nothing is ever on. He's not rich enough to buy a TV with full colour so he's stuck with a boring black and white box in his dining room.

On Saturdays, John like to meet up with his good friend, Greg Lestrade at the coffee shop. They discuss the latest gossip in the gay community and catch up on each other's life and what they did during the week. It was the same old, same old with John. He's a retired army doctor, just came back from the war a few years ago and now works at surgery helping patients.

John wade his way down the pavement to the local coffee shop, only two blocks from his flat. He sees Greg through the window waving at him and signaling to: "Come in! Sit here!" John smiles and waves back, entering the shop, grabbing the daily newspaper and sat directly across from Greg.

"How're you today, John?" Greg asked, bringing the teacup up to his lips and taking a light sip.

"I'm fine, I'm doing great. How about you?" He responded in kind, skimming through the useless and boring articles.

"I'm doing great myself. Today is Anderson and I's 15 month anniversary."

"Congratulations."

"Yeah, he wants us to go to Fire Island for the whole week to celebrate." Greg paused for a second, "You should come with us, maybe I can help you find a lucky guy."

"No thank you, I have work, patients to take care of. Besides, I'm 42 years old, the entire island is too young for an old bloke like me." Greg shrugged and focused on an article on the back of John's newspaper.

"What's that?" Greg pointing at the article. John flipped to the back of the heaping pile of papers and seeing Greg's finger pointing at a small column in the corner of the page. The header read:  **RARE CANCER FOUND IN 41 HOMOSEXUALS**

John and Greg suspiciously read the short article in syncronisation. "Are you sure you want to go to Fire Island?" John asked.

"Come on John, do you really think this is actually true. You know that the press and politics hate us gays. It's probably just some tabloid that a scumbag wrote to get attention." John nodded in agreement.

"Look at that cutie," Greg pointed at a young man, probably in his 20s, short ginger hair, "what do you think?"

"No thank you, he's too young." John responded as he folded the newspaper and tucking it away in his satchel. "I'm taking off."

"Before you go, I just want to let you know about this one guy. His name is Sherlock Holmes, major hottie. Here's his business card. " Greg fumbled around in his wallet, pulling out a white clean-cut card and handed it to John. "Let him know that I sent you to him."

John nodded and internally rolled his eyes. He waved Greg a goodbye and left the coffee shop.

 

* * *

 

Monday was full of misery for John, he'd seen a few patients who claimed they had the so called "Gay Cancer". He sent them all to Dr. Molly Hooper since she probably knows more about it than he does. On his lunch break, he only had 20 minutes and then dealt with 3 more "Gay Cancer" patients. What a fucking nightmare. John was even concerned for himself so he scheduled an appointment with Molly to get himself checked out. 

In the waiting room, he saw a man stammering out of the doctor's office. His face was flushed and was speckled with purplish-brown spots all over his face and body, he look like hell. John felt a bit sympathy for the speckled man.

"Are you infected with the so called Gay Cancer?" John asked the man. He hated that name but he didn't know what else to call it. The man nodded and left the building.

"John Watson." He heard his friend, Molly call out from her office. He got up from the hard plastic chair and entered her office. She ordered him to take his clothes off and put on the required gown. As he did so, he laid out on the examination table and let Molly check him out.

"Have you experienced any nausea, irritable bowels, dizziness, headaches, or any signs of fainting?" She asked, waving the small torch in his eyes, mouth, and ears.

"Not that I know of, no." John quickly answered. Molly massaged his lymph nodes and checked his heart through the stethoscope.

"Well it seems like you're not infected by the disease." Molly stated, recording his data on the clipboard. "But I need you to do a thing for me. I need you to tell the gay community to stop having sex."

"What?" John quaked.

"I've been seeing patients infected by this disease about twenty times a day. That is over a hundred patients since this epidemic started and half of those patients are already dead, John. This disease is obviously sexually transmitted if it's been happening to only homosexuals. Having them to stop having sex is the only way to keep this disease from spreading."

"This is ridiculous, Molly. You can't tell the whole gay community to stop having sex, it doesn't work like that. You can't change the gay entire gay agenda because of a disease. They won't listen."

Just in that moment John and Molly heard staggering footsteps ascending the stairs. The door busted open to reveal Greg and Anderson carrying a man who was seizing in their arms. Molly forced the young man onto the examination table and quickly strapped him down. White foam was forming from his mouth which was dripping down the sides of his cheeks. To John, this was disturbing. Even as an ex army doctor, he's never seen anything like this in all his life and it scared him.

"What happened to him!" Molly exclaimed, holding down the shaking patient.

"He was just out of his mind," Anderson continued, "Greg and I just saw him walking mindlessly into the busy street and almost getting hit by a cab. He looked so sickly as he walked back to the pavement and before you know it, he just collapsed. Greg and I rushed to help him up and we got here as soon as we can."

Molly unbuttoned the sick man's shirt revealing the same purple-brown spots that he saw on the previous patient.

"That's what I thought, this man is infected by the gay disease." Greg took a step back and the three men all exchanged glances. 

Molly found the vein on the man's arm and quickly but gently injected the fluid into his bloodstream. The man gradually stopped shaking as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The man peacefully died.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday afternoon after work, John stood in front of a large office building in the beating heart of London. He gripped tightly onto the business card Greg handed him that Saturday. He left creases onto the small paper before stuffing back into his pocket and wiping a few beads of sweat from his forehead. He made his way in the building and up the stairs to the eleventh floor. He ventured through the office floor, looking at all of brass name plates on each desk. He finally found the name plate with the words 'Sherlock Holmes' engraved into it. From what John can tell, Sherlock was a very clean person as his name plate was shiner than the others and his desk was neatly organised with clean stacks of paper in a neat line. Sherlock was tall with dark, curly hair. That's all John could make out of him, his back was facing him and obviously working on something important.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" John's voice faded in a bit of nervousness.

"Yes sir. How may I help you?" Sherlock turned around and stood up. John was completely astounded by this young man's unique features. His cheekbones were high and pointed, icy blue eyes, lips plush and soft and perfectly shaped, and that curly hair John was so tempted to run his fingers right through it. He was no older than 35. Greg was right, he is cute.

"Hi, my name is John Watson, Greg told me a few things about you and wanted us to meet."

"Oh yes that's right, Greg Lestrade. He told me a few things about you too. It's very nice to finally meet you John." Sherlock extended his arm out to meet John's hand. Even his hands were soft to the touch.

"Maybe after your work you can meet be down at the pub just around the corner for a drink." John said pointing out the window.

Sherlock shook his head, "No, I don't do that sort of stuff." 

"How about dinner at my house Friday night?" John asked again.

"Sure, that sounds fine." Sherlock agreed as his lips curved into a smile. "If you would excuse me, I really need to get back to work or my boss will be pissed."

"Yes, of course." John took the crippled business card and on the back he wrote down the address to his flat and tucked it under Sherlock's hand. "I'll be off then." 

He waved Sherlock a goodbye and left the building.

 

* * *

 

Friday night was the big night for John, he waited all week for this night just to know more about the mysterious Sherlock Holmes. He was covered in cologne and may or may not have brushed his teeth 3 times in a row. He fixed a few blemishes on his face in the mirror above his fireplace. Just at that moment a knock came from the front door. John knew it was Sherlock and his stomach turned a bit. He turned the radio on low volume to have The Beetles playing in the background whilst eating. He opened the door to see the younger but taller man standing there in front of him looking sharp and clean cut.

"Wow, hi Sherlock. You look great." John complimented him, letting him step inside his flat.

"Thank you." Sherlock smiled as John took his coat and hanged it on the nearby coat rack. "You don't look too bad yourself either." John felt his cheeks heat up to a dusty rose colour. "You're blushing." He stated, smiling a bit.

"What? No, I took a hot shower beforehand and I have high-blood pressure." John lied, trying to cover up the evidence.

"Whatever you say..." Sherlock wondered to the kitchen where the pasta and sauce heating on the stove, "Smells good."

"You hungry?" John asked taking out 2 plates and silverware. 

"Very." They both set up the table as if they were a married couple getting ready to eat dinner, but they were just 2 men that just met a few days and barely knowing anything about each other.

"So, what  do you do for a living?" John asked, swirling his fork in to spaghetti and stuffing it in his mouth.

"I work for the press, I usually write about science and technology. What do you do?"

"I work at a surgery just a few blocks away. I used to be an army doctor in Afghanistan and I decided that I still need money to fill up my pension. Since you work for the press," John continued, "you know about that rare cancer found in forty one homosexuals?" Sherlock nodded, slurping up a noodle.

"A co worker of mine wrote that. I obviously don't believe it though. Just because we love men and not women, we have to be treated different from everyone else. The press hates us, the society hates us, and politics hate us. It's just another stupid tabloid going around to make us gays look more vulnerable to the world."

"I don't believe you, Sherlock." John teased, pointing his fork at him, "Honestly, I see about five patients a day who are infected by it. On Monday I even got myself checked out, thank god I'm clean but Greg and Anderson rushed in shortly afterwards carrying a guy who was seizing and foaming from the mouth like a rabid animal." John made a gesture with his mouth, "And when Dr. Molly unbuttoned his shirt, he had these purple-brown sores speckled across his chest and stomach. She said that he was infected. And just a few minutes later, his body just gave up on him and died right there on the examination table." 

Sherlock shrugged, "Whatever it is, I don't have it."

"Do you have any siblings?" John asked trying to change the subject.

"I have an older brother, his name is Mycroft and he's a lawyer. We used to be close when we were children but we decided to turn our backs on each other in my late teen years."

"I have a sister." John stated, "Her name is Harriet but we call her Harry. After getting shot in Afghanistan, I moved in with her. After two years in her place, I couldn't take it anymore with all her drinking and yelling at her wife. I had to leave for the better."

They both sat silently, finishing up their dinner as The Beetles played softly in the background. When Sherlock was done, John noticed a small, smeared spot of sauce on the tip of his nose.

"You have a little something on your nose." John stated. Sherlock reached for his napkin but John stopped him, pinning his hand on the table. He leaned in and lightly licked the tip of his nose and gently sucked on it until the sauce was gone.

"Thanks." Sherlock said, pupils dilated and breath heaved. John couldn't take it and leaned further in and connected his lips to Sherlock's. Surprisingly, he kissed back.

Sherlock made a deep growl from the back of his throat which sent chills down John's back. Sherlock's tongue glided throughout John's mouth and nibbled the bottom of his lip. They both moaned in unison, undressing each other and made their way into the bedroom.

"You look so beautiful when you moan for me." John whispered into Sherlock's ear a nipped onto the lobe. Sherlock made a shudder and fell on his back undoing his trousers and pants revealing an already hard member. John was already hard to begin with also. He shed off his pants after Sherlock and began at his jawline, kissing and sucking on the bone. Then to his ear, John sucked onto the lobe and traced his tongue down his neck and to nipples as he playfully squeezed one with thumb and index finger and the other was in his mouth. John sucked onto the hard nipple, nibbled it and licked in a circle around it. Sherlock let out another pleasurable moan escape his mouth. John's mouth traveled further down his body to his hips. He gripped tightly onto the thin man's bony hips and began to kiss his inner thighs and up to his groin.

John buried his nose between the based of Sherlock's cock and balls. He looked up at Sherlock to meet his eyes and Sherlock smiled at him and bit his bottom lip. John began to stroke the shaft with on hand, kissing and sucking the base of it and the other hand playing with the balls. His mouth slowly maneuvered up the shaft and kissed the tip before taking the whole cocked in his mouth. Sherlock haven't felt this much pleasure in ages and John just loved to see and hear his Sherlock fall apart right under his dominance. 

John's libido quickened as he held Sherlock in his arms and slowly sat him down onto his lap, pushing the tip of his cock into Sherlock's arse. Sherlock let out a moan, his head thrown back, eyes rolled and his nails digging into John's back. John felt another shock of euphoria running through his entire body.

"Sing for me my love." John begged pushing more force into Sherlock and reaching up to nibble more on his bottom lip. Sherlock obeyed John's orders as his moans crescendo into a lovely song for John's pleasures.

Sherlock screamed as he hit orgasm as a warm, sticky stream of semen shot out of his cock. John wasn't far behind, pulling himself out of Sherlock and letting himself go all over Sherlock's stomach. John collapsed next to Sherlock onto the soft bed. He turned around to face Sherlock and nuzzled his face into his neck and grinned.

 

* * *

 

"Have you ever slept with a girl?" Sherlock asked John in the dead of night after the long night of fucking.

"Yes, once." John answered with a chuckled.

"How was it?"

"It was horrible. It was my first year in Uni and this girl Sarah and I been talking a while. One night we decided to get more serious and we tried to have sex but I couldn't get a hard on, it was so embarrassing. We decided to put it off and went to bed. Little did I know, I woke up at 4am with a massive boner, I turned over to wake her up and I was like 'hey, are you still ready for sex?' And that was the first and only time I had sex with a girl. Never again."

"Oh my god," Sherlock chuckled, "that's horrible." They both laughed for a few seconds before Sherlock leaned down to peck a kiss on John's lips.

"Goodnight." John said, smiling like an idiot.

"Goodnight John." Sherlock replied, turning off the nearby light. 


End file.
